Supercape

Carmen groaned inwardly. Shakespeare, though pen ist missed, for the night does drippeth with claret worthy of thy most bloody of acts! ... Tazel, no comments please... "Billy, stay here! And for God's sake, stay alive!!!" she shouted, before turning heel, managing an elegant spiral of smoke as she did. "Alex!" she shouted upstairs, wondering if he could hear her, and if he could, if we would pay any attention. Deciding that the time for words had passed, for tonight was a night of action and bloody violent action at that, she chased back upstairs...

Tazel doing what he does best. Wreckage. Hopefully he has not found a way to include me in that painting. Carmen waved her motley crew of four - or five, if you included the Hellhound she had bound to her, forward. She deally hoped that the binding would last. The last thing she needed was a moment of creaking in the bonds of will and pact that enslaved the beast. With a pointed finger, she ordered the Hound to rip open the fence - not a difficult task for a beast of its size or power, she reasoned. "We don't have much time..." she hissed at the others, keen to keep up the pace. She wasn't entirely sure herself if it was concern about Tazel's ability to keep the soldiers distracted, her own hold on the hellhound, or the clock that was ticking according to Nikki's story...

"Mademoiselle de Rennes, my time is thin, and my patience follows" said Rene, breathless from adrenaline. He spoke the truth too, he was flushed. He felt himself once again been plunged into a web of deceit and machinations that were beyond him. And he disliked it. "I appreciate the candour with which you have so far blessed us with, but now is the time to double your blessings and dispel with all obscurities and vagueness. The guard outside your door has seen only to given seconds of time. The painting concealed in the bowels of your house is the key to unlocking a fierce spirit that will enslave and manipulate men as if they were but pawns. I will not stand for it, or any who stand in my way, Mademoiselle!" he said, full of passion and determination. "They must, and will be stopped. So tell me Madameoiselle, were is that painting, for I mean to burn it!!!!"

GM A little later, over the Atlantic, South of Freedom City Robert had never completely regained his colour, but was still able to fly the ship. It was, despite its plethora of high-tech abilities, pretty easy to fly. "ooooh...." he murmured - to himself, Megan, and Steed all at once. Megan was by his side, whilst Steed was behind him, flicking through some magazines in a state of slight disinterest. "I can feel something..." he explained, as he started to sweat. "Megan...I really don't like this..." he said, clutching his chest with one hand, and then two. All around them was the swell of the Atlantic. They were still a score miles from the East Coast of the States. The Pegasus pitched to one side very slightly as Roberts Hands left the controls... "It's near...another shard...I can feel it..." he whimpered, unhappy at the prospect... Meanwhile, a few miles north As Hronos plowed south, he was aware of the other signal moving towards him, at high speed. Not homing in on him, as far as he could tell, but heading towards Freedom City all the same...and now within a few miles...

GM "Armour? Yes indeed! We found some old crushed up armour in the yard. Somebody must have dumped it here. Our good luck charm. Ah say, our good luck charm!" explained Goodman, as he strode forward. "Next thing we knew, we had a cave in, the armour collapsed down below, well, it was mighty strange, ah tell ya. As if the armour was digging. We had to dig this here tunnel to get to it. Then we found the cave. Native American artifacts. And more! Gold! Ah'm no expert. Maybe Aztec, maybe Incan. Maybe from the Spaniards. Who cares?" he smiled. "All ah know is that set of armour dug us straight to fortune!" Detective Amy Chance had, for now, kept quiet, despite her earlier thrust of impatience. Compared to Marcus, even she was a model of patience. "You don't know what you are dealing with..." she muttered, pulling out her gun. "There are forces in this world..." she said, with a crooked, bitter grin. Down in the dark, she had finally taken off her sunglasses. Her left eye had a horrible livid scar painted round it. Not blinded, but a scar that marred her otherwise beautiful face, forcing her eyelid half shut and distorting her features. It would not have looked good in any light, but the dim shadows cast by Goodman's flashlight made it look like a B-horror movie. "No wonder you shut this place down, sucker" she said to Goodman. "But my friends here are right. You are in way over your head...." The voices ahead had stopped, and a there was a soft howling, a cold breeze...

GM A few moments later At this time of night, and with this type of weather, the streets were pretty empty. A few street hustlers, and a few streetwalkers clung to the night refusing to seek any solace, Agnes Roadster' glided through the night well enough, the rain fighting a battle with the wipers that looked pretty much a draw. One couldn't see far, even with headlights glaring. But even in the rain, a glare in the rear view mirror caught Roi's eyes. One time. Two times. And then, too many times. They were being followed.

GM A little later, at Gran Canaria Airport Strings were pulled without difficulty. Velocity had the suspicion not just at her end, although the Freedom Leauge did most of the heavy lifting on that part. The Pegasus craft landed on a disused strip just outside the main airport, to be greeted by Heather Steed and a rather flashy two seater sports car. "I'm sure you don't need a ride, honey" she smiled at Velocity, explaining away the lack of third seat. Without further ado, she whipped out the blue crystal fragment. Robert stiffened at its glow, a thin sheet of sweat on his forehead, and not just from the Canarian heat. He clutched, unconsciously, at his chest in anxiety. "That's..it...I can feel it. ooooh...I don't feel so well..." he said, leaning on Velocity. "It's...alive...isn't it?" he asked, metaphorically, as it pulsed like a heartbeat. "I think...I think...I can feel the others. More like smell them. I don't think I can precisely locate them for you, but if we get closer...I'll know..." he said, trying to inject some firmness in his voice. He turned towards Velocity. "I...don't like it, Megan...it's going to make me ill...." he whispered.

"Stick around, I'll be back!" sneered Pitch at the Demon, flexing her fist at the defeated Demon. She would normally tear the thing to shreds, but Billy was on her mind. As much as she wanted Vengeance on the thing, she didn't want the kid falling to the demons either. She spun round, and grasping her cane started off to follow the photographer. As she hauled herself after him she caught sight of Alex. "Don't ask, and don't tell" she said simply and firmly, eyes blazing red. She looked back at the demon. "And if that thing makes a move, kill it!" she said, indicating the gun by his side.

Right, seeing as the Demon is all but done for (...or is it..? dramaaaa!), Pitch will spend the round moving back towards Billy. I guess given her limp it will be the full round.

1d20+6=14 pfah!

"Justice is not for one man, Monsieur" said Rene, walking up to Hartfoul's horse and patting it gently. "And you seem to think it is your's to own by some divine right..." he sighed. "Tell me, Hartfoul. What demon is snapping at your heels to move you so? I guess you have wealth, power, and wit? what drives you now? more power? and then what? more power? that road will never end..." He shook his head. "And I think you would be more a threat as prisoner than free man, somehow. Perhaps kindness is the best remedy to your plots. But tell me, all of this...why?" he gazed somberly into the Fey's eyes. Rene felt old and tired, and disinclined against further violence and blood after the madness of the feast.

"This old thing?" asked Carmen, looking at the Cantos Stick she held. It was old, she realised. Perhaps even older than her father. Where had he got at it? had he imbued it with its powers, or merely mastered it. It struck her that so much of her legacy was as yet a mystery to her. She could hardly trust Tazel to speak the truth. And her fathers diaries, whilst suggestive, where riddled with layers of the cryptic and befuddling. Fire me up Tazel! she ordered, as she erupted into smoke and wisps of flame, her clothing folding into studded leather and silk, her eyes reddening. "No. I'm not poking you with that..." she grinned, fury in her mouth and words. A massive spear of burnt and black metal formed in her other hand. All barbs and crooks. "This, however, I will be poking you with..." she explained, hurling the smoking weapon towards the creature in a trail of sulfur and smoke...

right then! Move Action: Ordering Tazel to fire her up into Pitch form! Standard Action: Throwing a big ball of metal at the Demon! as she is fatigued, its -1 attack, so she won't shift. 1d20+9=28 That looks like a hit to me! so DC 25 Toughness save.

Rene sniffed his nose, somewhat impolitely at Starbase Coffee. "I would prefer to avoid ze cardboard swill of that establishment, madame. Non! even ze inferior cuisine of ze English will be preferable to ze offences of mass produced plastic!" he said with passion. "As we are in ze English Countryside, I think we are best places to avail ourselves of ze Charm of English Public House, with ze Garden of Ze Beer, Non? as Ze English cannot master ze Noble art of Winemaking, They have to suffice with brewing lesser tonics. I will concede this to them!" he said, wiggling his leathery eyebrows. "And then, I hope you can help with our little task at hand, Madame!" he said with a bow and smile at Aaliya.

Rene stepped boldly in front of the man. "Young man! step out of the way!" he demanded, a smile on his face. "You want no part in this play! tonight is a night of schemes and foul plots. I would not have you be a disposable pawn today, but a prince of your own making in the years to come. A soldier you may be, but a soldier fights for liberty and land, not the silver coins of some ignoble master!" he explained. "Be a man now, and seize honour and life. Be a soldier, and not a mercenary!" he demanded. "I would see to the woman you guard, and make right what is undoubtedly wrong!" he proclaimed, and without hesitation made move towards door.

GM A little later, on board the Pegasus Plane... Robert Harrow inspected the controls of the Pegasus Plane with admiration. "It almost flies itself" he said Joyfully, as he handled the ship over the Atlantic. He had an amateur pilot's license. Probably, under normal circumstances, he wouldn't have been let near such an expensive piece of equipment, but Velocity was persuasive and influential - and besides, the ship was fitted with all sorts of automatic safety equipment that handling it's basic functions was routine. As long as they weren't getting into dog-fights, the Pegasus would be in no danger. They were sailing through the air at relatively low altitude but impressively fast speed. It would not be long till they hit the west coast of Aftrica, and the Canary Islands. "I'll just give Steed a quick to let her know we are..." Bring Bring! rang his phone. Heather Steed came the name on the display. "Put me onto your girlfriend!" came the voice as he answered. "I just has an Idea how you can pay me for your help!" she said brightly to Velocity. "With your Freedom League strings. I have this irritating little legal problem in the states. Something about digging up protected sacred native American land without a permit. Very boring. Look, if you can get me a pardon for that, I am at your service!" she said excitedly!

Editted in the bruise. Blod is up.

Marcus judges the tunnel and excavating are not exactly expert. There is a risk of cave in, although no imminent danger,

Lucy can hear about five voices ahead, discussing the excavation of the "armor".

The Free Booter is basically secaped at this point (unless Tsunami lands on him?), so - on to the Captain. He is going to reload his shotgun (as fluff) and "storm" out to the deck of the ship in the storm. Round 9 25 - Blod - 1 HP - Hidden 24 - Tsunami - Bruised - Fatigued - 1000 feet away (on coast) - 2 HP 21 - Crimson Tiger - Bruised (1 Round from engines) - 4 HP 13 - Devil Ray - Bruised x2 11 - Captain - Unharmed We need Tsunami Tough Save as above, then Blod is up again

GM The Devil Ray looked down at below deck, seeing the Crimson Tiger scuttle off and Blod disappear to...well, he couldn't see.... He turned his metal helm back to Tsunami, the eye pieces glowing with a dim red light. "Normally I would relish the chance to crush such an annoyance" he said, his hand tightening to break bruises on the girls wrists. "But I have a job to do. And the job comes first. Another time, sea-child. And next time, I won't hold back. Hell, I'll do you for free". With that, and with surprising speed, he shoved her to one side, arcing his arm and body, and with a massive surge of servi-power, launched her into the sky, throwing her back to Freedom City through the rain and wind and lightning of the furious storm that blew around them... "Bon Voyage!" he yelled at the girl as she disappeared into the night. Meanwhile... The Captain Grimaced as he lost sight of the Welshwoman. Instead of losing sleep over the matter, he cocked his shotgun. "It's hunting season" he muttered grimly. "Nothing is going to stop me now..." He stomped out into the storm on deck, his sea legs had not deserted him. Despite the pitch and yaw of the ship, and the wet deck, he stood steady, looking directly into the dark clouds.

Ok so its Villain time again. Devil Ray, still grappling Tsunami, is going to throw her into the city. Tsunami weighs around 100lbs. Devil Ray has an effective lifting / throwing Strength of 47. that is 7 increments over what is needed to lift Tsunami as a heavy load: or 1000 feet. This is enough to hit Freedom City shore, and cause a DC 22 Toughness roll.

A few rolls please: Earth Science Rolls from both (trained only) Notice Rolls (hearing) Marcus will, with his supersenses, smell magic covering the whole area at this point. The place is low light, thanks to the flashlight. Normally however it is pitch black. This will, of course, not bother Revenant!

GM "Very well then!" said Goodman, drawing himself up to his full and less than average height - and a bit further still by rolloing onto the front of his feet. He tipped back his head and yet somehow his Texan hat stayed on. He clutched his lapels in defiance like an American President of old. He plucked up a flashlight and opened up the door behind the cabinet, leading the two into a somewhat cramped tunnel down below. It was propped up by beams and had wires running along it. "This is the tunnel, ah say, the tunnel, we had here dug in order to get to the cave. Nice and secret away from prying, ah say, prying eyes..." he explained politely. The smell was not exactly unpleasant, but old, stuffy, full of earth and rust. It was not exactly big either, Marcus had to stoop uncomfortably to walk through. "We found, ah say, we found, some old cave. Ah believe, Ah say Ah believe it was an old Indian burial site. We picked up some arrowheads, carvings. There were cave paintings too. But that's not all! No sirree!" he said, excitedly. Up ahead, in the blackness, voices could be heard. "That would be mah associates, ah say, my associates. That is to say, ah say, that is to say, friends of that there that Teddy..."

GM "I...understand" replied Robert. "I can't stand by. It's just...It's just..." He smiled, and kissed her passionately, as if it was the last kiss he would have with her, savouring every moment. "I don't want to ever lose this" he explained, lost for words that were not needed. He sat down and finished his tea, a semblance of serenity over his face, masking fear. "Well then, to business. Saving the world, and all that. Do I need a mask and a costume?" he asked, teasing her. "I suspect I can sense the watch, or anything like it. It's part of me, now. Just keep an eye on me when I do get close, hmmm?" "But its still an awfully big area to cover. To be honest, Steed may be our best bet. For starters, she has the first piece, doesn't she? I suppose I should see what kind of sparks that sets of in my head first. Can you take me to her?"